


Winter Never Leaves Here

by tigereyes45



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV), Game of Thrones (Video Game 2014)
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon, Queen Sansa, Sansa Stark is Queen in the North
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 04:52:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18985660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigereyes45/pseuds/tigereyes45
Summary: Sansa Stark knows Jon rarely stays at the wall. The freefolk have accepted him as one of them. Which is why attacks happening between her people and the freefolk are the perfect excuse to visit Jon. They just aren't always the only excuse.





	Winter Never Leaves Here

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested by iwusnineteen on Tumblr. They requested: Sansa visits Jon a lot

Sansa feels a sense of pride as she looks out past the damaged wall. The North was hers entirely now. With Jon at the wall and the wildings beginning to move back and forth the two norths. Their people were becoming more acquainted with each other. Still, there was the occasional problem to arise between the northerners and wildlings. The most recent of which came from a village on the coast closer to Bear Island that had been attacked. The houses pillaged and some of the women stolen.

Sansa was lucky there weren’t more problems from the attack. With veterans of the wars finally returning home. Their children picking up the weapons and tools they have laid down to learn it for themselves. Some of their daughters returning home with white walkers’ remains on their hands.

She heard that part of the reason not more people were taken was because the children had fought off their attackers. Alongside their fathers. Slowly the North was becoming more independent, and self-reliant. All while it’s people became stronger together. A united front to the rest of the world. That was the true reason she was here on top of the wall. To talk with Tormund Giantsbane and Jon Snow. The newest kings beyond the wall.

Sansa held no doubt that it was Tormund’s people who performed the attack. He had been known to sail towards the area before the attack from the white walker army.  She invited both men to meet with her at the wall. Sansa looks down as the shouts begin. Red hair riding side by side dark black hair.

“Is that Lord Snow my lady?” The young Ryon Forrester asks as he leans even further over the wall. Sansa ignores the urge to grab him and pull him back. Instead, she reminds him how far down the ground actually is. The young minor lord slowly backs away from the edge then.

“He is no lord. He is a man of the Night’s Watch. He can hold no titles.” Sansa explains as she watches them raise the gates.

“Then why is he not at the wall? He is coming from beyond it.” Ryon points out resting a hand on his sword. The young man was only a year younger then Rickon was when they were both alive. Now he had lived for two years past what her brother ever could.

“I do not know. The wall is under now once again under Jon’s leadership. It is possible he is working to make the night’s watch connection with the wildings in a stable state. Diplomacy is existential when maintaining healthy relationships with allies. If Jon goes beyond the wall to work alongside the wildlings then I am sure it is to the benefit of the wall and the north as a whole.”

Ryon nods excessively as if the faster he shakes his head the more she would believe he was hearing. They step on the elevator and hear the delighted shouts of the men below. Ryon moves past Queen Sansa to try and get a better look.  She could almost replace his dirty brown/blondish hair with red in her mind’s eye.

“Ryon is you would,” She asks gesturing to the elevator’s gate.

“Oh, of course, my lady,” He moves quickly to open it up and catches himself on the gate after tripping over his own feet. Sansa frowns at the sight before passing the young man. Tormund laughs freely as Jon looks unconvincingly between Ryon and Sansa. Of all people he was no one to judge the company, she keeps around.

“Sansa,” Jon smiles as he greets his cousin. His face grew brighter as she smiles back. He hops down from his horse and opens his arms. Sansa almost doesn’t meet them. She almost steps away in an attempt to keep the atmosphere formal. Yet as he closes the distance between them Sansa opens her arms in return. She openly pushes her face deeper into Jon’s shoulder as they embrace.

She doesn’t have as much restraint as she likes to think she does when it comes to Jon. He squeezes her tightly before pulling back to kiss her forehead. Her fingers tighten around him before inevitably letting him go. His hands rest comfortably on her shoulders, a habit she had noticed he picked up while away from home the first time.

“It’s good to see you again.”

“The North misses you,” Sansa replies keeping her smile short.

Jon frowns but lets her go. Those were not the words he wanted to hear. “They must be doing fine with you leading them. How is Bran?”

“Has he not written to you?” She asks following his lead towards the repaired housing structure.

“He hasn’t,” Jon frowns at the new stairs. He pulls his hand back from them and walks up with a confused stare. How long has he been back to the fort? “He has other ways of communicating with me.”

Sansa almost asks how, but a chill down her spine warns against it. Mayhaps she wasn’t the only one who had strange dreams. They were always followed by a letter from the king of the now five kingdoms. Tormund pushes Jon up the last few steps. He glances back to see that Sansa was watching them. He whispers something into Jon’s ear only while staring her down.

“Stop it Tormund!” Jon whispers back. When he looks back at her his eyes wander down.

“Is something wrong Jon?”

“No. We’ll talk in here. There’s no master room constructed yet. So this is as much privacy as we can expect.” Jon explains as he opens the door for them. “Any night’s watchmen out!”

Two tired and measly men stumble out of the room. Their eyes keep low as their limbs move slowly. Whoever they were they were not yet acclimated to the weather this far north. As the groggy men leave Jon slams the door shut behind them. His expression switches from suspicion to business.

“So why did you ask for this meeting,” Jon questions jumping straight into business.

“Am I not allowed to want to see you?” She sits comfortably on one of the beds.

“If you had wanted to just speak with me that is what I would assume this visit was. However, you sent for Tormund as well. So, what happened Sansa?” He sits next to her on the bed. Tormund found leaning against the wall closest to the door perferable. She wishes Jon would have done the same. Not only did his position make it more difficult to keep this professional, but she could feel the heat emanating off of him. Somehow he still smelt of home, of  Winterfell after so long. His warmth reminding her of nights spent by the fireplace as Old Nan shared her stories with them. It was different back then. They were children. Children who thought themselves, siblings. Before the world and their trauma set upon them.

“Sansa?” he takes her hand and squeezes it comfortingly. “What’s wrong?”

“There was an attack,” she admits sounding far more devastated over it then what she had been.

“What kind of attack?” Sansa doesn’t miss the look of concern Jon gives Tormund.

“A group of wildings has been attacking the villages near the coast of the mainland closest to Bear Island.”

“How do you know it was wildlings and not some of your southern men?” Tormund’s voice was gruff. His impatience shining through as Jon shoots him a look that pleads for cooperation.

“Eye-witness reports. Some of the children and men who fought them off described them as wearing wilding clothing with no banner above them.” She explains squeezing Jon’s hand back.

Tormund looks at their hands before looking to Jon. His emotions clear on his face. He thought it ridiculous that she had summoned them down for this. “Why are we listening to this? Our people are waiting for our return and we are here to listen to her accuse them! No one under us has gone back South!”

“We don’t know that Tormund,” Jon declares as he pulls Sansa closer by her hand. “There is no way for us to keep track of everyone. I’ve told you about this Tormund,” Jon stands up releasing Sansa’s hand. She almost reaches to pull it back but stops herself last minute. To make it seem as if she had almost done nothing she rests her hand against her chest while the other remains still in her lap. Every movement measured, every result planned. “I think I’ve seen some sail south in boats from,”

“There’s no evidence of that. You’re so quick to believe this queen did you not learn your lesson from the other one?” Tormund voice is bitter and angry. Sansa could feel the hurt emanating from it. He wanted Jon to be on his side of this since it was them he now lived with. Yet Jon would never side against her, not with someone who was not blood or did not share his bed. Jon’s face contorts and he turns his back on his friend. Tormund had not thought wisely over his words. They had cut Jon deeper then any disagreement between them had ever cut Tormund.

“Fine. I will stay at the only working docks. I’ll watch and work with the wildings there. If I so much as find one northern woman there against her will then I am stealing the women back to their homes.”

“You couldn’t even handle one woman at a time, what makes you think you could take that many?” Tormund’s laugh was loud and boisterous.

“You know I don’t mean it that way.”

Tormund claps an arm around Jon’s shoulders. “We may make a wildling man out of you yet, my little crow.” he looks back at Sansa and frowns. “I’ll wait outside. I want to be heading back before it gets too dark.”

“Fine.” Jon slams the door shut behind the wildling. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he turns around. As he lets go he throws his arm out and opens his mouth. He closes it almost immediately again. “Look, I’m sorry Sansa. The wild folk, sometimes they just don’t like to listen. Tradition was never something any Northerners have ever been good at giving up.”

She stands and walks over to her blood. Offering her arms out as a gesture of understanding. As he embraces her again she wraps her arms tightly around him. She takes a deep breath trying to commit his scent to memory.

“I trust you to do your best to solve it. In the meantime, the Northerners will be told to continue trade with the wildings, but they have permission to defend themselves if violence occurs.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

“Winterfell is lonelier with all of you gone.” She admits talking into the fur of his clothes.

“Your queen now. That’s what you wanted.” He points out as he pulls back from her.

“I wanted my family there with me. I wanted us to have a home to go back to. A place for us all to stay safe,” she points out all but jabbing her finger into his chest.

“Arya will come back, and you are always free to come visit me. Just send word first and I will meet you, anywhere up North.”

“Anywhere, anytime?” She watches his expression carefully.

“I promise,” Jon’s face was completely sincere as he swears to Sansa.

“I will hold you to it, Jon Snow.”

He laughs and sits back down on one of the beds. Sansa looks back and forth between the door and her cousin. Curious as to what she should do next. Her business here was concluded. She and her men could start the ride back and be home before too many days. Yet here she was hesitating.

“Jon, have you heard who are ruling the newly open lordships of the North?”

He looks at her with a bemused smile. His eyes revealing his confusion as to why she asks. “No. Why Sansa?”

She sits back down next to him. “Well it helps no one if you know not who our people may have problems with in the future.”

“Our people?”

“They are just as much mine as they are yours. They may not recognize me as their queen but they love you Jon. I love you too, and as long as they treat you kindly and try to get along with the other Northerners then that is all I can ask.” Sansa points out as picks up a piece of paper from nearby. She searches for an ink pot and pen. Jon opens the dresser next to them and pulls two out.

“This use to be Samwell’s and mine room. He always kept extra ink in here,” Jon offers as a way of explanation.

“I will have to thank the maester,”

“I’m sure he would appreciate that,” Jon scoots closer as she inks the tip of the feather pen. Sansa leans her shoulder against his chest. She claims it’s too sturdy her hand as she writes. As they study the new lords and lady's names, Jon seems none the wiser. In this moment the wall almost felt like home.

**Author's Note:**

> Posted this on mobile. Let me know if the layout came out nice on your end, please.


End file.
